Jenna Da Sie offers up today’s topic – Start from the end. You’re the ghost of Christmas future. Write about your life from your funeral to the present. How were you celebrated?

I consider myself kind of an expert on death, as I’ve been killed off a couple of times. In case you don’t know, I’m actually a fictional character written by HIM. HE writes me, but I write my stories.

It’s complicated.

Anyway, HE’s managed to kill me off a couple times, thinking HE doesn’t need me. I just haunt him until he brings me back. HE’s thinking about killing me off again, which is the real reason I haven’t been able to finish my latest story.

HE’ll learn.

Of course, HE might die someday. then things get really complicated. Can I live on without HIM?

We’ll see.

In the mean time, check out what Jenna Da Sie on her own topic, as the Romance Writers Weekly blog hop continues at: http://jennadasie.com/

Okay, summertime and the living is easy. A vacation anywhere I want to go to inspire a new novel. It might be just what I need. My latest WIP is set in the fictional town of Bayside. I’m also kind of stuck on it, so a trip might be just the thing I need to get it moving again.

Bayside is a small, artisan community on the ocean. I haven’t decided if it’s the Atlantic or Pacific, so maybe I need two vacations to figure that out. Either New England or Oregon/Washington. I can’t really decide. So, yeah. A trip along both coasts, checking out small communities along the way. That sounds like a lot of fun.

Today we’re being asked: What is the story behind your name? If you have a pen name, how did you come up with it?

Kind of a funny story. Marc Stevens is a pen name. The author want’s to keep his anonymity. I was originally supposed to be Marc Long. A friend told him before he went to set me up that they though Marc Long sounded like a porn name. Well, back then I was just going to write erotica, so it kind of fit, but that friend convinced him to change it, and so we came up with Marc Stevens together.

Today’s challenge comes from my good friend S. C. Mitchell – Flash Fiction Challenge: Give us a romantic scene to set the mood for Valentines Day.

So here’s a little scene I woke up with yesterday stuck in my head and just had to write:

Stupid

Not quite awake enough to find his chirping phone, Jason rolled to his stomach, mash is face into the sheets and pull the pillow from the other side of the bed over his ears to block the sound. He took a deep breath, then expelled a sigh. Her scent still lingered. In the sheets, on the pillow.

Stupid.

He gave up and pushed himself back over, clawing at the nightstand for his phone to turn off the alarm. Lying here, her essence all around, only made it worse anyway.

He pulled on his jeans, stuffed his phone in the pocket, and padded to the bathroom.

On the sink, her pink toothbrush stood next to his in the rack they’d purchased together. A cold, stark reminder she was no longer here.

His chest tightened as he picked up the toothbrush to examine it. Her mouth, those luscious lips. God, he missed her.

He dropped the toothbrush in the trash. “I was so stupid.”

Maybe he couldn’t help it. Maybe he just was stupid when it came to women. Maybe he needed to find that woman who could see past the stupid and find the real him.

Yeah, like that’s going to happen.

He hadn’t realized how hurtful the words would be until they’d tumbled out of his mouth. He knew she was sensitive about that. It hadn’t even been what he wanted to say really, it just kind of came out all jumbled up. That happened a lot when she was around him. His mind just didn’t seem to work right.

Such a little thing. But not to her.

Then she was gone.

Socks, shoes, and his cleanest dirty shirt later, he stood at his front door. Maybe a run would help clear his mind. A long run.

Trees, fresh air, and miles down the road hadn’t eased the pain. She used to run with him, and her absence haunted him with every step.

He stopped when his phone buzzed. Pulling it from his pocket, he checked the screen before answering.

Her.

“Hi.” Was she in trouble? Hurt?

“I miss you.” Her voice so small, tentative. “I was stupid.”

His heart warmed. “No, I was stupid.”

Her sigh sent waves of erotic promise coursing through his core.

“Could we, maybe, be stupid together again?”

“Yes. Come home. Please.”

Before he’d even hung up, he’d turned and started sprinting back the way he’d come. He couldn’t get home fast enough, but he did need one little side trip.

I’ll need to pick up a new, pink toothbrush,

***

So what do you think. Let me know in the comments below, then hop along to see what the wonderful Kathryn Renard wrote, as the Romance Writers Weekly blog hop continues at: http://www.kathrynrenard.com/

It was an interesting time in my life. I never did get around to writing the whole story, and I’m probably never going to. I’ll leave that to your imagination. But that experience inspired today’s challenge to my RWW teammates.

So, here’s something new, and (mostly) fictional:

The Friendly Skies

By Marc Stevens

Clive was more used to flying commercial, crushed between two strangers in the center seat with someone’s baby screaming in the seat behind. Okay, not always that bad, but God, he’d been there. He’d rather drive, take his time, and arrive with his mind intact.

“We need you today.” Tom Wendt wasn’t just offering him a part in his new movie. He was giving him the roll of a lifetime. Slade Steele, in the movie version of Marc Stevens’ Suburban Spies.

Clive couldn’t say no to next summer’s hottest romantic blockbuster.

Then Tom surprised Clive by sending a private plane. “I know how you hate to fly.” A comfortable Leer jet, pilot, co-pilot, and Jennifer.

Piercing blue eyes, and plump red lips were framed by a fall of golden curls. A low-cut uniform that offered a generous hint of cleavage.

“I loved you in Island Heat.” Her eyes widened as her tongue dragged across her lower lip.

“Don’t tell me you actually watched that.” Nobody admitted to watching Island Heat. While Clive thought he’d turned in an acceptable performance, the film was so poorly edited, it was almost unwatchable. Still, there was that love scene that went viral on Youtube, but with the lovely Miss Paige playing opposite, that wasn’t really acting.

Jennifer unbuckled her seat belt as the plane leveled off. “I thought you were great.”

***

God. Clive Matthews. Everyone knew he was the next big thing in Hollywood, even though Island Heat bombed at the box office something fierce. That hadn’t been his fault, and his performance shined through the shitty production. Especially that hot sex scene.

Jennifer took a deep breath, trying to center herself. This was no time to go all fan-girl over him. “Can I offer you coffee . . . something stronger?” Me?

Blurb

Sadly ever after. . . unless some dreams really do come true?
.
Elinor Burkenstock never believed in fairy tales. Sure, she’s always been a fool for love—what woman isn’t? But Elinor knows the difference between fiction and truth. Daydreams and reality. True love and false promises. . . . Until the unthinkable happens, and Elinor’s engagement is suddenly terminated and no one, least of all her fiancé, will tell her why.
.
Sir Michael Rollins’s war-hero days seem far behind him when, after onelast hurrah before his wedding, he gets shot and his injuries leave him in dire shape. He wants nothing more than to marry Elinor, the woman of his wildest dreams. But Elinor’s father forbids it . . . and soon Michael is faced with a desperate choice: Spare Elinor a life with a broken man or risk everything to win her heart—until death do they part?

About the Author:

A.S. Fenichel gave up a successful career in New York City to follow her husband to Texas and pursue her lifelong dream of being a professional writer. She’s never looked back.

A.S. adores writing stories filled with love, passion, desire, magic and maybe a little mayhem tossed in for good measure. Books have always been her perfect escape and she still relishes diving into one and staying up all night to finish a good story.

Look for her on the Historical or Paranormal Romance shelves. A.S. is the author of The Demon Hunters series, The End of Days Trilogy, Wishing Game, and more. A.S. will be bringing you her brand of edgy romance for years to come.

Originally from New York, she grew up in New Jersey, and now lives in the East Texas with her real life hero, her wonderful husband. When not reading or writing she enjoys cooking, travel, history, and puttering in her garden. Her babies are both rescues and include; a demanding dog and a temperamental cat, both bring constant joy and laughter.